


In Dreams

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Series: Dust to Dust [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Muteness, Pre-Relationship, The Fade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5201705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haven’t you ever wondered what it’s like to dream, Warden Brosca?  </p><p>Brosca vs the Fade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Dreams

_Haven’t you ever wondered what it’s like to dream, Lira?_

* * *

Weisshaupt was beautiful.

It wasn’t beautiful in the ways surfacers saw beauty. There was no shine to the fortress, no grass or greenery, no embellishments on the stone. The green tint used for all the glass windows was hardly flattering, giving off a sickish glow under the sun from above. The few statues found in the courtyard were all monuments for the fallen, well carved standing ghosts of those who came before. To humans, to elves, to those who had spent their lives under an open sky, the place held nothing of beauty.

To Lira? To a dwarf? To a woman who missed sturdy rock and talls walls? It was a fortress of splendor.

It was a fortress that reminded her of home.

“Are you done looking around, Warden Brosca?” Duncan asked. Lira pulled her gaze away from the architecture around her and looked up to her commander. He looked younger here for some reason, less worn. It was rather nice.

Lira nodded. She hadn’t gotten her fill of the place of course, but she wasn’t going to stay idle. After all, she had taken an impromptu nap in one of the side courtyards earlier; if she kept wasting time her superiors would think she was lazy. There would be plenty of time to explore the fortress later.

“Where do we report next?” She signed to Duncan. Duncan pointed to one of the side rooms of the courtyard.

“Armory. Your armor is ready.”

Lira smiled. There was some fantastic news. She was tired of wearing the spare set of armor that they’d gotten for her at Ostagar. It was a little big on her, and the extra space in the shoulders made it hard to move in. She honestly had no clue why she was still wearing it. The Blight was over now; she didn’t need to be in full plate all the time.

“We also have a sword that might suit you better,” Duncan said, gesturing to the sword on her back. It too was a little too big for her, more suited to wield with two hands than one. “We have shields as well.”

“That’s wonderful,” Lira signed. She looked around the courtyard. The other three Wardens there were rather silent, tall and still. It was honestly rather odd; Lira had never met humans who were so quiet.

Then again, considering her regular company was Leliana, Morrigan and Alistair, she did have rather a biased selection.

That reminded her. She looked up to make sure Duncan was still looking in her direction before signing more.

“Where is Alistair?”

“He is practicing some sword techniques. We will meet up with him later,” Duncan said. “Assuming he does not injure himself in the process.”

Lira laughed. She’d never heard Duncan make a joke before. The sound that came out of her mouth was light and amused, higher pitched than Alistair’s laugh, but lower than Leliana’s. It was a nice sound, a pleasant sound, and for a second, she let herself enjoy the echo of it on her lips. Her laugh. Her voice. Her-

The world tilted. Her breath caught. Her entire body tensed. She looked to Duncan to see if he was just as startled as she was and found him perfectly calm.

As if he hadn’t witnessed the impossible.

“Warden Brosca,” Duncan said. His tone had a hint of worry to it, just enough for her to pick up on. “Is something wrong?”

Lira bit her lower lip. Maybe she was just hearing things. Maybe her brain was just fooling her. There was only one way to find out. She took a deep breath. Tried to scream.

Normally when she did this, when she did her best to yell or cry out, nothing happened. Usually there was no scream, no noise except for the sound of air rushing out of her mouth. It had been that way forever. Since she was born. This time was different.

The scream she’d never been able to manage echoed across the entire courtyard.

“Warden Brosca!” Duncan was talking to her, but Lira wasn’t listening. She clamped both of her hands over her mouth. The echo of her scream was gone but she could still hear it in her mind. She could make noise. She could scream. She could laugh.

She thought back to the last thing she could remember before the courtyard. She’d been in the Circle Tower. They had a mage with them, a woman. There was something about corruption, maybe a rebellion now that she thought about it and demons-

It clicked into place. How she ended up in the courtyard. How she suddenly couldn’t remember defeating the archdemon at all. Why her vocal cords were working.

Lira was a dwarf. Dwarves didn’t dream. But she understood dreams worked, how the Fade, worked, nonetheless. Making the impossible, possible Granting wishes. Illusions.

There was only one way to make sure. She hadn’t tried to speak in ages, not since she was small. Lira lowered her hands from her mouth and turned towards Duncan and thought of his name. What she wanted to say. Tried to form the words with her mouth.

“Duncan, why can I speak?”

Duncan’s mouth fell open. When he spoke next, his voice was a little off kilter. “We found a mage remember? One who could-”

Lira wasn’t listening. She was already reaching for her sword. Her suspicions had been proven as soon as she spoke Duncan’s name.

_“Her vocal cords simply don’t work,” A mage, a healer, months earlier said, knelt down in front of her. “And even if I could fix them, which I can’t, it wouldn’t help much.”_

_Duncan, who was standing off to the side turned to the mage. “If I can ask, why not?”_

_The mage shrugged. “She’s never been able to make sound before. If I could repair her voice, she’d have to learn how to make the right sounds. How to form them right. And then connect them into words.” He looked to Lira, sympathetic. “It’d take years, even if you could learn now.”_

_Lira hated the look on his face more than his pronouncement._

The yell that left her throat helped remind her everything was an allusion as she plunged her sword into Duncan’s chest.

* * *

_Have you ever considered what it would be like to have a voice?_

* * *

    Lira hated the Fade.

    It was a hellhole in her opinion, and that was coming from a woman grew up in Dust town. The place twisted and turned in on itself, none of the paths leading to the same place. Demons crept in the shadows, curling in small corners, and lingering in hidden crevices. Keeping silent in her fights, once a simple task, proved impossible with her new found voice, screams coming unbidden every time she was caught off guard.  Fog covered every nightmare, every blasted dream, and no matter how often Lira tried to wave it away, the green tinged smog never dissipated.

    The place set her on edge. It was obvious she didn’t belong here. With every step she could hear “intruder” echo in her ears. When she got out of the maze, she promised herself that she would never laugh at surfacers nightmares again. How they went to bed knowing this was waiting on them….it took effort not to shudder at the thought.

    The shapeshifting didn’t help matters, each forced transformation of her bones painful and agonizing. Magic didn’t suit her, she doubted it ever would. She walked the various nightmares of the fade with a permanent glower, ignoring the ache in her bones from constantly making herself anew. By the time she found Wynne, she was exhausted. By the time she found Leliana, she found herself desperate for a stiff drink.

    She looked at the portal in front of her. It had to lead to Alistair; she’d explored everywhere else. She reached forward towards the portal, then drew her hand back. She’d found Wynne in a nightmare. She’d found herself in a dream. She’d found Leliana in a cross between the two.

    What would she find of Alistair when she entered? A dream or a nightmare?

    She hoped it was the former. She didn’t know what Alistair’s nightmare would look like, but there was a fair chance it would all fall back to Ostagar. And Lira doubted she would ever be ready to revisit Ostagar.

    With that thought, she took a deep breath and entered the portal.

* * *

_What is would be like to be loved? To be accepted? To be anything other than a waste of space? You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it, Lira. I’m a demon; I see your heart._

* * *

    Lira was wrong. A nightmare would have been better. Ostagar would have been better. Lira could have pulled Alistair away from Ostagar. She could make him leave a nightmare.

    But a dream? A dream he’d clearly wanted for far too long. How could she convince him to step away from this.

    “Lira this is my sister, Goldanna. Goldanna this is Lira. She’s a Grey Warden.”

    Lira stared at the woman who was not Alistair’s sister. She was tall, almost as tall as Alistair, and her hair was the same red shade of her brothers. The smile on her face was pleasant, almost warm, and if it wasn’t for the coldness of her eyes, Lira could have bought that the woman in front of her meant her no harm.

    “It’s nice to meet you, Lira,” Goldanna said, outstretching her hand. Lira didn’t take it staring at the woman’s nails that were pointed almost like claws. “My brother hasn’t told me much about his time in the Wardens. You’ll have to tell me about it over dinner. That is, if you’re willing to stay.”

    Alistair made a noise that sounded rather like a girlish squeal. Lira usually found it endearing. Now it struck her as rather sad.  “Oh, yes, stay! You have to try Goldanna’s stew. It’s wonderful!”

    Lira lifted up her hands to sign then lowered them. Right, Alistair didn’t know how to read her gestures yet. He’d been learning, since Ostagar he’d been managing to pick up rather fast, but one month’s worth of lessons was not nearly enough to make him fluent. She pressed her lips together. This would require talking. With a voice that wasn’t really hers.

    “Alistair,” she said. It was odd how her lips and tongue knew how to form the sounds almost instinctively. Like she’d been doing this forever. Speaking. “This isn’t real.”

Alistair tilted his head. “Isn’t real? What do you mean it isn’t real?”

She took a step forward and reached up to grab his shoulders. Due to his height, she had to stand on her toes a bit, but she made do. “Think about it, Alistair. Where we were before this happened? The Circle? The demons?”

Alistair chuckled. “Demons? You sound like one of the Templars. Demons here. Demons there. Demons under your bed if you think about nicking an extra roll from dinner. Good joke, Lira.”

She tightened her grip on his shoulders. “I’m not joking. Alistair-”

“You have such a pretty voice you know,” Goldanna said, speaking up. Lira’s grip on Alistair’s shoulder’s lessened. “Doesn’t she, brother?”

“You’re right,” Alistair said. “It is rather pretty. I can’t believe I didn’t notice that before.”  He paused. “Or that I just said that out loud.”

Lira let go of his shoulders, stumbling back a step. One of her hands reached for her throat, curling around it protectively.

_Such a pretty voice, such a pretty voice, such a pretty-_

“You should speak more often,” Goldanna said and that snapped Lira out of her trance. She turned on Goldanna, sword drawn.

“How dare you,” Lira growled. It was odd, how this fake voice of hers could go from beautiful to dangerous in a second. “Let him go.”

Goldanna, more demon now than illusion, licked her lips. “Why should I, Warden?” Her voice was no longer sweet, a deep rumble under the surface of every word. “Why should I let you take him from what he’s always wanted? A family? A home?”

“Goldanna, what’s going on-”

Lira ignored Alistair, focusing on the demon in front of her. The demon that would die on the end of her blade. “Because it’s not real.”

“Lira what-”

The demon chuckled. The warm brown eyes of Goldanna were gone and when she looked back down at Lira, they were blood red. “Have it your way, Warden. Forfeit your voice, his dreams. Happiness.”

With that, the demon charged.

* * *

_Why child, don’t you want to be happy for once?_

* * *

    The fight was brief.

    Lira had made her way through the other areas of the Fade; she was used to demons. The few that charged her fell before they could make a scratch in her armor. As far as bouts went, it was one of the easiest she had to face yet.

    “Thank you,” Alistair said when all was over and done. He looked more like his normal self now, more focused. “I can’t believe I let myself get tricked by demons. Some former Templar I am.”

    Lira shrugged, placing her sword back in its scabbard. “It got me too. I wouldn’t beat yourself up over it.”

    There was a painful pause. Lira looked at Alistair to find him staring at her. He cleared his throat.

    “That is…new.”

    It took Lira a few seconds to catch on. “Oh, right.” She cleared her own throat now. “One of the mages who’s trapped here…he told me it’s likely because I’m only here mentally. Spirits don’t need vocal cords to speak, and I suppose I don’t either as long as I’m in their realm.”

    “Oh.” Another pause.“That has to be hard.”

    Lira forced a smile onto her face. She didn’t want Alistair’s pity. “Not as hard as keeping you and Morrigan at each other’s throats.”

    That took the pitying look off Alistair’s face. It was replaced smirk. “Funny aren’t we? And here I thought Morrigan was adding those jokes to her translations at my expense.”

Lira snickered. “Stone, no. If anything, she tones them down. Seems adverse to letting me lighten the mood. Here I am, the funniest Duster on the surface and I’m stuck with Ms. Dire as a translator. It’s honestly tragic.”  

His grin slipped a little. Something she said had gotten him. He took a moment to speak.  “Well, let’s get out of here, shall we-”

Before he could finish his sentence, he was gone.

* * *

 

_Or are you so afraid of being happy that you cower from the thought?_

* * *

    In Lira’s mind it was settled; she would never be visiting the tower of magi again unless she was determined to torture herself.

    She was out of the Fade now, out of the tower as well, the demon vanquished, the Circle saved. All and all, a successful venture. Lives saved and all of that. It was enough to justify the feeling that she’d been hit with broadsword.

    They were headed back to shore now, the lot of them all crammed into a tiny boat. Lira hated sailing, dwarves were not meant for water, but she attempted to endure the ride by keeping her eyes surely on her feet. The boat swayed as the waves rippled past and for a second, Lira wished she had her Fade voice back, if only to hum a tune Rica once sung her.

    “Lira.” She looked up. Sitting across from her was Alistair. It was funny seeing him on the small benches of the boat, his knees curled up to his chest.

She tilted her head. They were back speaking in gestures now, and given that Leliana was passed out, she was unable to translate. She hoped her expression conveyed “what is it” close enough.

“Well..I was wondering,” Alistair started. He looked up at the sky for a second before looking back at her. “Well, it seems a shame that the best comedy the Grey Wardens have to offer is being translated by Morrigan. So I thought…well…Maker this sounded better in my head.” He trailed off and pointed at her boot. “How do you sign that?”

It took her a moment to understand his question. She signed out the gesture and Alistair kept a close watch on her hands as he moved. He asked her to repeat it, and she did as she was told. After a second, he smiled. A bright smile she’d never quite been able to pick out in any other human.

“Well, there we go. One word down. I can now start to understand the beginning of boot related humor.”

Lira stared at him. He was trying to learn. Trying to learn how to sign. Not because he had to, or because it would make everything easier, but so he could make out her stupid jokes.

“Lira?” Lira forced herself out of her own thoughts.  “Sorry, did I say something wrong?”

She shook her head. No. No, he hadn’t. Alistair’s smile appeared on his face once more.  

“Well okay then. Then let’s continue.”  He pointed to her sword. “Okay, hit me. How do you sign that one?”

Under the moonlight, Lira was more than happy to show him.


End file.
